


The Contractor

by AmarahOsiris



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Brother Bantering, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Death, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Angst, It's hard to explain, Kidnapping, Lots of death and dying, Murder, Vampires, angsty fluff, be safe dear readers!, dean being a dorky big brother, kinda au kinda not, lots of trigger warnings, milf alert for sam, read the first chapter to see what I mean, reader thinking their bantering is cute, sam being adorable while in love, sam being in love, stepfather!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-08-26 10:00:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16679467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmarahOsiris/pseuds/AmarahOsiris
Summary: An entire hunting network unknown to Sam and Dean finds itself at the Impala’s bumper by way of an attractive young mother who runs her own version of the “family business.”





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

The Winchester brothers were used to crap jobs. To having to lie, cheat, and steal to make ends meet. They were used to the smelly, shambled motels and having to run out on hospital and diner bills. Hell, there were times where they had no choice but to sleep in the Impala because they were too broke to afford one of those crappy motels. It wasn’t the way they’d ever imagined living life, but they were good at being hunters, and that was what hunters did to survive.

Or did they?

John Winchester had raised his sons on his own after the unexpected death of his wife in a house fire. At first, according to the fire department, it had all the classic signs of a mundane fire. Started in the kitchen, Mary went to go see if it was something she could put out on her own, an explosion, and it quickly consumed her. John barely got himself and the boys out in time.

Years down the road, the widower learned that fatal fire was from a more nefarious origin. Something that ‘normal’ circumstances and explanations couldn’t explain. The more he dug, the more he uncovered. And the more he realized more and more families like his own became victims of the supernatural every day. So, with the help of others before him, he trained hard and brought his boys along for the ride. Eventually, he caught up with the vengeful spirit that took his wife, the mother of his boys, and his home. He’d prepared long and hard for this. He put the vengeful spirit to rest. But not before he vowed to rid the world of everything supernaturally evil.

By the time he’d finished the job, he realized there was no going back to a normal life. There would be no regular nine-to-five job, settling down and raising his kids to become doctors or lawyers, husbands or fathers. Hunting was all he knew. It was his entire life.

And therefore, Sam and Dean Winchester were molded and shaped into the famous hunters they were today. Everywhere they went, hunters talked about the Winchester brothers and their father. Sam wasn’t accustomed to being talked about like this, but his older brother Dean sure enjoyed the attention.

But later on in life, their father went on a hunt and just never came back. No phone call, no text, no warning. Both young men figured he’d finally met his match. And they remembered what John told them long ago:

“ _If I ever go on a hunting trip and never come back, don’t go looking for me. I’m already dead. Just drink in my honor and move on with your lives. Know that I’m finally with your mother again.”_

Sam never had a good, healthy relationship with his dad, but even he hated the thought of his father being gone for good. Mostly because he had always hoped him and John would come to an understanding; a truce for all the fight and anger built up between them.

Dean wasn’t a fan of his father’s ways of raising them any more than his younger brother was, but he tended to be the more obedient one when it came to Dad’s training. So he decided they would honor his wishes. They moved on with life, continuing the ‘Winchester family business.’

Today was another usual day in their lives, drinking stale coffee in a stinking motel room, until Dean received a text message from an unknown number.

His breath caught in his throat.

“Holy crap.“

“What is it?” Sam asked, looking up from his laptop.

Dean walked over to him and handed him the phone.

“It’s coordinates.”

Dean looked like someone had just told him he could have everything in a liquor store for free. Sam felt his enthusiasm, though was very skeptical.

“Dean, this is impossible. The only person who knows to send us coordinates is-”

“Dad.”

“Exactly, which is what makes it impossible. Dad’s been gone for almost a year.”

“Yeah but what if he’s not?” Dean exclaimed.

Sam knew where this was going, but he just sighed and let his brother go on his recurring conspiracy theory of  _Dad’s not really dead_.

“Think about it. He always told us that if he never came back from a hunt, that we should move on. But what did he really mean by that? How do we really know he’s dead? We don’t. He could’ve just been missing or kidnapped and he just got free! Think about it! We could start hunting as a family again!”

“Dean, I’m pretty sure the reason we haven’t heard from him was because he’s dead. Dad’s one of the best hunters around. It would have to be a really nasty monster to even get the jump on him enough to kidnap him. And even then, you really think something  _that_  nasty would allow Dad to survive this long?”

“Look Sammy, I know you’re doubtful. But this is a sign! Sign that he’s alive! Or at least unhurt enough to text us a hunt. Or hell, maybe it’s an SOS! Maybe if we go to the coordinates we’ll see him! Look on the bright side!”

Sam just sighed again. He knew there was no convincing his brother otherwise. Dean was hit the hardest when Dad didn’t come back. So Sam just dropped the subject.

“Well, why don’t we start by seeing where these coordinates are. Go from there. Sound good?”

Dean grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “I’m ready to go when you are.”

—

Sam and Dean packed up the inherited ’67 Chevrolet Impala and hit the road a few hours later. While on the way, Sam looked into the coordinates, but the results didn’t make sense.

“This might be a bust, Dean,” Sam said, looking up from his laptop and out the passenger window.

“Meaning?”

“The coordinates are just a home address. In the middle of nowhere.”

“Could be an abandoned place, spooked out with a spirit.”

“Nah, that wouldn’t line up.”

“With what?”

“Check it out.”

Dean pulled up to a gas pump for fuel as Sam turned the laptop to show him. Before Dean on the screen was a house that came right out of Dynasty. It was big, it was lush, and it looked like nothing  _could_ possibly haunt it. Dean let out a low whistle.

“Well, rich folk still have hauntings. Don’t judge a book by its cover, Sammy.”

Sam just rolled his eyes as Dean filled up the Impala’s tank. Sam decided to go inside and grab snacks before his brother could decide for him. With their tendency to only be able to afford greasy, fat-ridden diner foods, Sam did his best to watch his diet while on the road. It wasn’t easy; he’d taught himself over the years how to read ingredient lists properly and determine what was considered relatively harmless and what could cause cancer. Judging by the selection inside the mini-mart, his only choices were apples, oranges, and bottles of water; the fruit was of questionable age. Sam sighed, but grabbed some water, an apple and two oranges anyway. He could’ve blindfolded himself and picked anything out in the junk food section and Dean would be happy; his big brother didn’t care a whit about his food intake.

Sam paid for the items, folded himself back into the Impala’s passenger seat, and Dean hit the road once more. Dean estimated they’d be at the coordinates destination by the afternoon tomorrow. Sam just nodded, grabbed his iPod and earbuds and settled in for a night of soft rock and audiobooks.

—

A ring of her doorbell announced she had company.

Y/N Y/L/N’s son Tobias ran around in just his underwear and a toy airplane in his hand, making raspberry airplane noises as he ‘flew’ it around the living room, while Y/N’s dogs were barking up a storm at the door; as if to alert the would-be intruders that they were dangerous. Y/N straightened her blouse and pencil skirt and took one last look in the wide mirror above the hallway table, fixing her Y/H/C hairstyle one last time.

Opening the door, a pair of young men dressed in cheap, rented suits stood at Y/N’s threshold. One of them had an almost military styled haircut and was slightly shorter than the other, who had shaggy brown hair that flipped out at all ends past his ears. They were both cute, but not because of their faces.

“Welcome, gentlemen,” Y/N said in her most professional voice. She’d been schooled by the best.

“Good morning, ma’am,” the shorter one said. “I’m Agent Markle, this is my partner Agent-”

“Oh please. You’re not fooling anyone with those fake badges and cheap suits, Dean.”

Both men blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“Ma’am, we’re with the FBI.”

“No you’re not. You’re hunters.”

Both men appeared to have stopped breathing. Y/N chuckled.

“Don’t fret. This is a safe place for hunters. And, quite frankly, I’m sure it’s the only reason you’re here. C’mon in.”

Y/N stood back to allow the men into her home. They put away their fake badges but appeared very uneasy.

Walking through the massive house, Sam and Dean Winchester were floored by how nicely furnished it was. It didn’t have any of the classic signs of a haunting, which was what they thought they were here to investigate.

_Such naivety,_  Y/N thought, following them. She didn’t know when hunters started hiding their true profession from the public eye, but it was really annoying. It stifled business. Her family business.

“A friend of mine contacted me, saying her brother in law may have a haunting,” Y/N began, leading them into a royally furnished sitting room. Huber, the family servant and a man dressed in a  _real_  suit (in her humble opinion) brought a silver tray filled with tea and snacks. Both men politely declined refreshments, so Huber prepared a cup of tea to her usual preferences. He handed it to her and she took a quick sip, savoring the lavender and orange essences. 

“Thank you, Huber. Anyway, her brother in law described what he’d been experiencing and, in my opinion, it seems he’s got a poltergeist. My girlfriend didn’t know what to do obviously so she contacted my hunter’s liaison, who in turn contacted me. I have been told of your professional pasts and was assured you two were the best men for the job.”

“So, wait,” the shaggy haired one, Sam you remembered, spoke up. “You’re not the one with the problem?”

Y/N furrowed her brows at him. “Of course not. My home is thoroughly warded and protected against anything and everything nighttime bunpity-bump worthy. My very reputation precedes me. As I’m sure yours does too, Sam Winchester.”

Sam flinched slightly. Apparently neither men were accustomed to being called by their real names. Your internal annoyance spiked. Dean had a look of shock. You paid them no mind and went on.

“This case isn’t far from here, which I’m sure would be convenient for you two. As your employer, I will provide you lodgings, meals, and medical insurance in the event of injury while on this hunt. There is also a clause that states in the event of your deaths, a $200,000 life insurance policy will be issued to the beneficiary of your choosing. Everything will be stated in your official contracts. Since we’re on the subject, let us discuss your fee.”

The men remained silent.

“I can either do cash or electronic transfer,” Y/N continued. “Though it should be noted, my policy for cash payment means giving me 24 hours to make a run to the bank. As hunters, you have the right to name your own price. What with so many monsters out in the world, there isn’t any amount of money I would find unreasonable. So, what is your fee? $100 an hour? $200? Or would you prefer a flat sum? For a poltergeist, I believe the last lump sum I paid out was close to $2000, plus medical expenses. That hunter had to be bandaged up quite a bit. I will also include a stipend for weaponry repair or replacement. Plus you will have access to the library which contains every Grimoire ever published, both officially and unofficially. The library also has Wi-Fi in the event you need to use a computer, something I do not provide sadly. As hunters, you’re only as good as the weapons and knowledge you possess.”

Both men looked like you just threw complicated calculus problems in their faces and demanded they solve them in thirty seconds flat or be shot to death.

“Fee?” Sam asked.

“Employer?” Dean asked incredulously. “Ma’am, no offense but, not sure what you’ve heard about hunters, but we work for free. We don’t get paid.”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to look flabbergasted.

“You’re joking, right?”

Neither brother changed their stoic, serious expressions. Y/N quickly went from shocked, to insulted. She knew her grandfather was spinning in his grave knowing hunters were once again doing their jobs under the radar without proper compensation.

“How in the  _hell_  do you two survive?” Before either man could answer, Y/N went on. “Given both of your builds, I highly doubt you’re skipping meals, therefore it’s reasonable to assume you pay for your food somehow. Taking a gander at Black Beauty parked outside, I would also venture a guess that nobody is giving you gas for free. Both of you clearly have working cell phones, otherwise you wouldn’t have received the messages about this hunt, therefore it would also be reasonable to gesture you pay for those too. Nothing in this life is free. So I’ll repeat myself. How the  _hell_  are you two surviving?”

A beat of silence passed before Sam spoke up.

“Check fraud and credit card scam.”

Y/N’s anger was now visible as she shot up from her seat and started pacing the span of the room, wall to wall. Huber must’ve sensed her emotions as he came rushing in with a plate that held two liquid filled gel capsules and a small glass of water. She was always thankful Huber was a psychic. She took the pills and the water and downed them both, nodding her thanks to Huber.

“This is an outrage! To think good quality heroes are being forced to commit illicit activities to survive! The insolence! Granddaddy is spinning in his grave, surely!”

She  continued her pacing before Sam stood up and stopped her. He took her arms into his massive hands and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry if we offended you.”

Y/N blinked. “ _You’re_  sorry?! Sam, I should be apologizing to you! If I’d have known there were hunters still using the old methods of survival, I would’ve sent word to correct it immediately! This is completely unacceptable. No hunter should be-”

“Okay seriously, lady,” Dean interjected, “Who- or I guess,  _what_ \- the hell are you?”

Y/N looked up at Dean and smiled. “I’m a contractor.”

“What’s a contractor?”

Y/N slowly look up at them. “You truly don’t know?” Both men didn’t change their expression and she sighed. “Okay. I guess I’ll start from the beginning.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: FLUFF, SAM AND DEAN BEING TREATED WITH RESPECT AND DIGNITY (just go with it)
> 
> Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Y/N Y/L/N, Tobias Y/L/N (mentioned), John Winchester (mentioned), Huber

* * *

 

Sam and Dean listened with great interest as Y/N told her story. If they hadn’t known any better, they would’ve thought they were being told a fictional, fantasy story. But she was indeed talking about goings-on in the real world.

Before the days of credit card scamming and check fraud, hustling pool and poker, begging, borrowing, and stealing to make ends meet, there was an entire network of hunter communities who worked for legitimate money, paid for by the communities needing their services.

“Someone would put out a notice for a nasty spook needing to be hunted, and the community would start a ‘collection’, donations towards the fee for a hunter. The hunter would catch wind of the notice by ways of liaison, or ‘contractors,’ men and women who would work with these communities. 

“Back then, they didn’t help fund the contract, but merely aided in determining if calling a hunter was the right move. As the contractor business began to boom, companies started springing up and worked out a way to profit from the contracts. They’d take a percentage of the communities’ profits in exchange for their services.”

Y/N took a sip of her tea before continuing. “My grandfather, Harrison Wheatley, saw more than just a way to make money. He understood that hunters are the only things standing between us normal folk and the supernatural. He wanted to ensure they were compensated handsomely, taken care of good and proper. His philosophy was a vision that hunters respected. Too many good men and women sacrificed their lives in the name of saving the world, and it broke Granddaddy’s heart.

“My father had no intention of carrying on his father’s business, but I took an interest at an early age. I’m no stranger to a hunter stumbling in bloody and broken, in dire need of medical intervention. Granddad took good care of hunters. Despite my parents’ disapproval, I always saw myself being just like him. I like to think I’ve made the family business better in his place.”

As she spoke, Sam could clearly feel Y/N’s pride radiating off of her. He and his brother knew there were other supernatural expert in the world besides hunters. But to learn there was a legitimate network that didn’t involve any illegal activity to survive - that piqued Sam’s fascination even more. Y/N had his undivided attention.

“So, this contract,” Dean said after a moment of silence. “What else can you tell us about it?”

“All I know is that all the signs I was told point to a poltergeist. I’m not a hunter, it isn’t my place to do what we did in the olden days. But I do have guidebooks that can interpret signs and symptoms of every monsters that’s ever been hunted. I can only give you the information and let you decipher what’s really going on. More times than not, my predictions are correct. But I also prefer to let hunters do what they do best. Makes for better business.”

“As a hunter, I appreciate that. Too many times people have tried to get in our way, thinking they’re helping, only to end up getting themselves hurt or worse,” Dean said.

“Agreed,” Sam added.

“Alright,” she breathed, “but we still need to discuss your pay. Everything I stated before will be in writing. But once you’ve signed it, there will be no negotiating afterwards. So make sure you read it thoroughly.”

Huber came forward with a few sheets of legal paper, fresh from the printer. Dean passed it on to Sam, whose pre-law education at Stanford tended to give him the upper hand at reading legalese. But when he started to read the papers, Sam saw there wasn’t any kind of real legal structure to the wording. It was all in plain English.

“I like that this is simple to read, and to the point,” Sam complimented. “I was a pre-law student at Stanford, so I know a bit about reading legal stuff. But still…this is refreshing.”

“Grandpa wasn’t much of a scholar in the way of the English language, so I’m not surprised he kept the wording as simple as possible. No disrespect to hunters, but most of the ones who come through my doors barely have a middle school education. I don’t expect them to slog through complex paperwork to do their jobs.”

The more she talked about this, the more Sam and Dean saw this as their future. Y/N had a successful business at making hunting less complicated. In more ways than one. Sam had always tried hard to find legitimate ways for them to survive financially that didn’t involve scamming people of their hard earned money, but nothing ever came of it.  This would solve that.

Sam looked at Dean, who nodded. “Alright, we’ll take the job.”

“Excellent!” Y/N stood, extending a hand for them to shake. Dean shook it quickly, but Sam took a bit longer. She felt her cheeks grow warm, but smiled. “I’ll give you two time to read over and sign the contract. If you have any questions, please ask them before signing. You can always ask clarification questions, but like I said, any disputes need to be settled before your John Hancock ends up on it. I’ll have the maids prepare your rooms. You’ll have the afternoon to get settled in, make sure you have everything you need, then I believe dinner will be in order.”

As she walked away, Dean caught Sam staring. The older brother snorted.

“Dude,” Dean said in a low voice, “you’re  _not_  hitting that!”

“Never said I was.”

“Well, your eyes on her ass did.”

A smack across the shoulder was all Dean got in response.

—

The Winchester brothers had never seen so much money being promised to them before in their lives. The contract stated that after completing the job (which would be confirmed by the owners of the home where the poltergeist resided), they’d be paid a lump sum of $2500 each and given 2 days recovery time before either accepting another contract or moving on. Dean figured that kind of money would last them a few months before they’d need to take up another offer.

It would keep the Impala’s tank full, give them time to ditch their fraudulent credit cards, maybe go out and open a legitimate bank account to store their funds. The idea of consistently staying fed was also at the forefront of their minds; Dean painfully remembered how many meals he’d sacrificed to ensure Sam was fed. Dean was already thinking about buying new clothes, maybe even a new pair of work boots. Sam was browsing the Internet for clothes himself after the maids have told them their rooms were ready.

The rooms themselves clearly only saw the upper class by looks alone, with their plush California king sized beds, fresh clean sheets with colorful bedspreads, matching black-out curtains, and each room had their own full bathroom. The kind that didn’t need to be accessed from the hallway. Each room had a full sized oak desk, which clearly saw usage over the decades, a comfortable yet ergonomically chair.

Sam loved his brother more than he loved himself most days. But it was nice to not have to share a room  _and_  bathroom with him for a hunt. A flat screen television mounted on the wall with premium cable channels would give him something to do when he was done with research. Dean was slightly bummed that he’d have to pay himself for pay-per-view porn, but he wasn’t verbalizing his complaint. All in all, the boys could not have been happier with their accommodations.

“Dude,” Sam chided Dean as they went downstairs as Y/N was ordering pizza. “You’re seriously gonna order porn? What if Y/N has children here?”

“Oh you don’t have to worry about Tobias,” Y/N replied as if they were talking to her.

“Tobias?” Dean asked.

On cue, a six year old boy ran into the sitting room in nothing but a pair of pants, two space craft toys in his hands, acting like they were fighting an intergalactic space battle.

“This is my son, Tobias,” Y/N beamed, opening her arms for the young boy to slip into. “Toby, this is Sam and Dean. They’re hunters who are gonna be staying with us for a while.”

The little boy, who had his mother’s Y/E/C eyes, smiled at the men.

“Hi,” he addressed shyly.

“Hey Tobias,” Sam replied softly. “Whatcha’ playing?”

“Space wars,” the boy grinned. Sam smiled back.

“Who’s winning?” Dean asked.

“’Dis one,” Tobias held out the spaceship in his left hand, which was missing a wing.

“I’m rootin’ for them too,” Dean replied with a wink. That made Tobias smile, which warmed Y/N’s heart. Most hunters were respectful towards her son but made an effort to avoid him. As if their presence would taint his innocent existence. These men were different. They saw Tobias as their equal.

“Me too!” Tobias exclaimed, running off with the toys, making gun noises in the distance. Y/N chuckled, and knew she had to speak up.

“Are either of you fathers by chance?”

Sam and Dean shook their head feverishly, and she laughed more.

“It’s alright,” she mused, “I never envisioned becoming a mother at sixteen.”

“You were sixteen when you had him?” Sam inquired, hoping he wasn’t overstepping his boundaries.

“Yeah. His father and I were in our junior year of high school and not all that bright, as you can imagine, heh. But we made it work, both of us graduating from high school on time and with honors, despite all.”

“That’s good to hear,” Dean replied.

“I think Tobias is better for that experience. One day, he’s going to see what me and his dad did to make a better life for him. Quitting isn’t an option in some cases.”

“Is your husband a hunter too?” Sam asked.

“…he was…”

Y/N gestured towards the fireplace mantle and both men looked up, and their faces fell. A handmade engraved urn sat in between eight-by-ten pictures frames of Tobias and a young man resembling the child. A plaque on the picture frame of the young man read ‘ _Elliot Tobias Y/L/N 1983 – 2003_.’

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sam said quietly.

Y/N looked up at the shaggy haired hunter and smiled sadly. “Me too.”

Just then, the doorbell sounded.

“That must be the pizza!”

Huber went to go answer the door.

“Good thing,” Dean smiled. “I’m starving!”

—

The following day, after the best night’s sleep the Winchesters had had in a long time, they ate breakfast and set off towards their contract’s destination. It took about a day, but sure enough, it was a poltergeist haunting Y/N’s friend’s brother in law’s house and they expertly dispatched it.

“Thank you so much for your help!” Shawn, the brother-in-law in question, said happily. “My wife and I will finally be able to sleep in peace now.”

“Just doing our jobs, sir,” Dean smiled as he and Sam packed up the Impala.

“Rightly so. I’m gonna call Y/N right away so she knows to pay you two well. Take care!”

As Shawn went back into the house and closed the door behind him, Sam and Dean looked at each other.

“I can’t believe that,” Dean said.

“Believe what?” Sam asked.

“We’re getting paid to do this. And not just that, we’re getting paid a  _lot._  $2500 for each of us? That’s a lot of money, Sammy. Probably more than we know what to do with. I wanna do this forever.”

Sam pondered on that as they drove back to the Y/L/N house. Looking out the window he took in the view. The mansion, with its lush green landscape, held plenty of room for dogs and kids to run around. It seemed like heaven to him.

The brothers walked through the front door of the estate and were warmly greeted.

“Welcome home, heroes,” Huber said as they dragged themselves in, not realizing how tired they were until just now.

“No offense, buddy, but we’re no heroes,” Dean said bluntly. Sam was about to offer his apologies on behalf of his dimwitted brother, but the old man just smiled.

“You will see just how valuable you are in due time,” Huber replied, then turned his attention towards Sam. “You, especially.”

Sam was about to open his mouth to ask the man what he meant, but Y/N appeared in the hallway.

“Gentlemen!” She called out cheerfully, Tobias hanging aside her hip. “Welcome back! I just got off the phone with Shawn. He had nothing but praises for the way you two worked! You two look tired as all could be, but do you require medical attention? If so, I can dispatch our family doctor at a moment’s notice.”

Sam shook his head as Dean gave himself a quick once over. “Nah, I think we came out more or less unscathed. A nap would be nice though.”

“I’ll leave you to it then. That’ll give me time to collect your pay.” Y/N started to walk away, but Dean stopped her.

“Wait, before you go, can we talk?”

She set her son down and gave him a kiss on the crown of his head before he ran off giggling. “Of course.” She gestured towards the same sitting room she had originally shown them.

Settled down, Y/N spoke first. “What’s on your minds?”

“My brother and I were talking on the way back here,” Dean started. “And… we love this.”

“Oh?”

“It’s more than just the money, though that is a really nice perk,” Sam said. “We are… honored… to be, uh… revered as anything worth being called ‘noble’ or ‘hero’. Most of the hunters we’ve encountered are shady as best, malicious at worst. Hunting has a way of messing with your head. We would like to offer you something if you’ll hear us out.”

The young contractor listened as they pitched their idea, and she knew her grandfather was smiling down upon them as they continued. Sam and Dean offered to take up any contract that came through in exchange for a smaller fee and permanent residency. They were actually suggesting-

“You wish to become my personal huntsmen.”

Sam blinked. Dean spoke in his place. “Come again?”

“Back in the day, the hunters who were offered a permanent position as a contractor’s assigned hunters were simply known as ‘huntsmen’. It was just a way to distinguish the two. Not all hunters liked to be, how was it said-”

“Kept on a leash?” Sam finished for her.

“Exactly! But there are incentives to being the Y/L/N Family Huntsmen. Aside from the obvious, you’d never be homeless or hungry. And as you know, there’s always something to hunt. The rooms you stayed in last night would become permanently yours, and you’d be given access to all parts of the house and grounds. Your car would also have its own spot in the garage, and access to the mobile detail company that comes out once a month. I can find you one that specializes in classic cars.”

“I like the idea of my baby sheltered from the elements when not hunting,” Dean mused, causing Y/N to smile, “but if you don’t mind, leave the detailing to me.”

“Not a problem. The option will always be there if you so choose.”

“What my brother means I think is this is something that would benefit all parties, not just exclusively us or you,” Sam said.

“Agreed,” Y/N slowly stood up. “But we can discuss this another time. You two still require your two day recovery period and I have no intention of talking about nitty-gritty business details until you two are rested and ready. Are we clear?”

“Yes ma’am,” Dean said as he headed towards his room. “Coming Sammy?”

“In a bit,” Sam called out, but as he turned around, the only person still close to him was Huber.  _Perfect,_  he thought. “Sir?”

“Please, boy, call me Huber,” the handsomely dressed elder spoke. “It’s a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance, Sam Winchester.”

Sam held out his hand so Huber could shake it. “Nice to meet you too.” An awkward silence passed between them.

“You wish to know what I meant earlier, don’t you?” Huber said.

Sam looked at him. “How did you know that?”

“You were just thinking about it.”

Sam’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re a psychic.”

“Indeed I am.”

Sam let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “What did you mean by us seeing how valuable we would be in time? Or… me especially?”

The old man, whose years of wisdom illuminated his eyes, merely smiled. “I’ve never been one to divulge what my prophecies mean, but I think you’re someone who a bit more… open minded than most hunters who’ve come in and out these doors over the years.”

“I’d like to think so.”

“You will see how valuable you are not just to yourself, but to Y/N…personally… one day.”

Sam was still thinking about those words as he fell into the slumber of a four hour nap.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SLIGHT ANGST, MENTIONS OF DEATH, FLUFF, SAM AND JOHN BUTTING HEADS
> 
> Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Y/N Y/L/N, Tobias Y/L/N (mentioned), Eli Y/L/N (OMC, mentioned), Huber, Harrison Wheatley (OMC, mentioned), John Winchester

* * *

 

Sam and Dean enjoyed another delicious dinner later that night. It was like Thanksgiving, with a huge full bird chicken and all the fixing and helpings they could ever eat. Dean secretly wondered if the Y/L/N’s ate like this every night. Sam was just happy to enjoy a meal with good company. Tobias went on about his day at school, and Y/N told the boys a story from when her husband Elliot, or ‘Eli’ as she called him, was on a hunt and mistook a toy poodle for a werewolf-infected mastiff.

“You’re kidding!” Dean laughed.

“In Eli’s defense, he was still hungover from the previous night. He’d gone out with a few hunting buddies and they had to drag him back inside, stinking like the underside of a tavern!”

Sam and Dean laughed in earnest. Huber was coming around with a two bottles in either hand. Wine for the adults, and juice for Tobias. Dean normally didn’t drink anything but beer and whiskey, but also didn’t want to be a rude guest. Especially if he was about to become permanently employed here.

“Would the gentlemen care for dessert tonight? Madam Wishes has prepared an apple pie that, I will confess bias to, is the best in the whole county!”

While Sam patted his gut with polite decline, Dean looked at his plate and wished he hadn’t eaten so much. Y/N just chuckled.

“A scope of ice cream for Tobias, Huber, please,” Y/N said kindly. Huber bowed before her and scurried off to the kitchen.

“So Huber,” Dean jabbed a thumb towards the general direction of the kitchen. “He family or an employee too?”

“Huber was Granddaddy’s great nephew. Coming from a long line of aristocrats, his mother never wanted him to become a hunter, but couldn’t stay away from the intrigue of the 'family business’.” Y/N took a sip from her wine glass. “From what Huber told me-”

“I found myself waiting on your grandfather hand and foot without even being told,” Huber reappeared from the kitchen with a small bowl of ice cream for Tobias and a slice of apple pie for Y/N. “Master Harrison was adamant about family not being 'servants’ but as my psychic abilities came out more naturally, he convinced my mother that I would be best protected under his watchful eye.”

“Wait,” Dean paused. “You’re a psychic?”

“I am indeed,” Huber replied. “And no, I can’t bend your spoon from here.”

Dean blinked. Y/N and Huber chuckled.

“You were just thinking about asking me to 'bend this’ and then thought about reaching for your spoon.”

“Huber has been a trusted ally in the Y/L/N family since he was a kid,” Y/N went on. “So when Granddad passed and I took over, I couldn’t imagine anyone else at my side. He occasionally watches Toby when Eli and I needed a night out, but now that he’s gone… I don’t like leaving the house for too long without him.”

“Mama I’m a big boy now, you don’t have to be scared,” Tobias piped up. Sam smiled.

“I know baby, but Mama likes being at home. So it’s okay. You’re okay. You know why?”

“Why?”

Y/N leaned into kiss the top of his head. “Because I love you.”

“Does Daddy still love me even though he’s gone?”

Y/N’s heart sank. Sam and Dean suddenly found the shininess of their silverware fascinating. Huber placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Your daddy will always love you, baby. Whether he’s alive or not.”

“Okay,” Toby smiled, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. “Can I be excused?”

“Yes you may.”

“C'mon, chap,” Huber held out his hand for the young boy to grasp. “Let’s go get ready for bed, yes?”

Tobias and Huber left the dining hall, leaving Y/N alone with Sam and Dean. The somber mood that hung low like a smog cloud caused Y/N to grab her wine glass and chug the rest of it in one gulp. Sam and Dean looked on, but kept their mouths shut. What could they say to a grieving widow clearly still moving on from her hunter husband’s untimely death.

Y/N cleared her throat before saying, “so, um… we were gonna discuss your positioning as Huntsmen?”

“Uhh, yeah, yeah we were.” Sam and Dean were talking over each other in an attempt to clear the air.

“Right, so,” Y/N re-positioned herself in her chair before continuing. “Like I said before, you’d become permanent residents here. My advise is to get rid of the fake cards and IDs. You won’t need them if you’re working under my company. In fact, having any sort of false identification would void the Huntsmen contract I will prepare for you, which would result in termination. And I don’t want that for you two.

"I would also recommend you set up a checking account at any bank of your choosing. The only way I can pay you your Huntsmen fee is via direct deposit. If you need bank recommendations I can point you in the direction of a financial adviser.”

“There might be a slight problem with that,” Dean began. “You see, um, well…”

“Dean and I are considered wanted fugitives by the FBI for murder…but the thing is, it was a shapeshifter who wore Dean’s skin to commit it. It wasn’t us.”

Y/N looked them over with concentrated curiosity. Sam was secretly worried that she would now throw them out of her home with this knowledge.

“An obstacle, no doubt, but one that isn’t climbable. It’s no problem. I know people who can take care of that.”

“And,” Dean sounded out, “by 'take care of’ you mean…what exactly?”

Y/N smiled. “By the time you two are officially on my payroll, you will have scrubbed background. Your warrants, charges and profiles will be eliminated from the FBI’s database. It’s not easy, but it’s doable. Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked.

“Of course she is,” Dean quickly interjected, as if his brother was trying to keep them from getting off the feds’ radar.

“Believe it or not, I’m not totally above shady practices if it means protecting my huntsmen.”

Sam and Dean sighed a relieved breath.

“Once all that’s handled, the two of you are going to need proper health insurance, yes? It requires a physical exam though so I’ll understand if you’ll want to skip that.”

“Sammy is probably a better picture of health than me, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” Dean said.

“Perfect. Now, as for your fee. I know you two mentioned you’d take a pay cut to be huntsmen, but let me tell you: don’t sell yourself short. The Wheatley Contractors Association LLC prides itself on compensating its hunters for the work they do. And that work comes with a lot of hardships, and not just the ones that comes with dealing with a case directly. There’s PTSD, long-term injuries and illness that come from being exposed to the unknown, and don’t even get me started on the fact that no one thanks you for your job. Not really.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other and, as if having a mental conversation with each other, looked back at her and smiled. Dean spoke for the both of them.

“The fact that you’re even paying us at all is worth it. The fact that we  _could_ name our own price is more than you probably should be doing. You’re offering us an actual living for skills that can’t get us jobs in the real world. $2500 for each of us for just one job? That’s more than we’d ever see in our lives. Hell, I don’t know any hunters that will ever see that much money in their lifetime, and hunters don’t exactly grow old. Not without sacrificing a lot mentally. So yes, we’re sure about a pay cut.”

“We were thinking, provided we take on a contract 4-5 times a month minimum, a monthly stipend of $7,000?” Sam added. “That would average about $1400-1750 per job, and that’s money we can split. No need to pay us that individually. We don’t need a lot to survive. We’re used to getting by on bare bones. It’s more than enough, we promise.”

“A roof over our heads, a warm meal here and there, the same bed every night? That would be enough even if you weren’t paying us,” Dean chuckled.

Y/N sat back, absolutely floored by Sam and Dean’s humbleness.

_What hardships have these men gone through to consider_ this  _to be an excess?_ She thought.

“Very well,” Y/N said finally. “I can have contracts written by late morning tomorrow. I’ll make phone calls to get your criminal records scrubbed, and I’ll ensure the family doctor and his assistants swing by sometime later this week for your physicals. I’ll instruct Manny, our head mechanic, to clear a space in the garage for your car. Will you need a financial adviser too?”

“That would be just fine, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Sam said.

“Oh dear,” she mused, waving a hand in the air, “call me Y/N, please. I might be your employer now, but we are equals in this house. And in this business. The two of us wouldn’t be able to work well without that understanding.’

She stood to shake both their hands, and once again Sam lingered in his handshake. Y/N felt herself become warm again as she broke away from the younger brother’s strong, inviting grip. Dean made sure to hide his smirk from either of them as they all dispersed.

—

Within twenty-four hours from the following morning, both men were given a clean criminal record and clean bills of health. The cold stethoscope against Sam’s bare chest couldn’t deter him from laughing at Dean, who whimpered while having his blood drawn. Dean gave his brother a cold glare as he folded his elbow into the gauze at the crook of his arm.

The brothers were then outfitted with proper, and for the first time, legitimate, identification for their future contracts. Apparently anyone who contacted Y/N’s company for a case was informed they would only send out verified hunters. Sam and Dean would also be given priority choice for all contracts that came in, and they could decline anyone at anytime, for any reason. This gave them the freedom to choose which cases were taken on by them, or passed onto other hunters in the roster.

"The only thing I ask is you look over every contract and determine if it’s something you want to take,” Y/N said as the boys were being fitted for their tailored suits.

Sam had his arms out as they were measured by someone out of a Men’s Warehouse catalog. Dean’s back leg was being measured at the same time; Sam hid his amusement as best he could. Y/N took noticed and found the brotherly banter kind of cute.

Once their suits were made and the brothers confirmed they fit well, they moved onto the actual Huntsmen contracts.

They read it all over and decided everything lined up to what was previously discussed. Sam initialed and signed all the place indicated and the bottom first, right above his typed in name, followed by Dean mimicking his brother. Y/N then turned the documents around, initialed and signed all the placed she was required to.

“Well that’s settled! You’re both officially Y/L/N Family Huntsmen.” She stood up and shook both their hands. “Welcome to the family, boys. Hope you don’t mind being called 'uncle’.”

Just then, Tobias walked in and looked at everyone with curiosity.

“Are they huntsmen now, mama?”

“Yes baby they are.”

“Does that mean…they’re replacing Daddy?”

Sam and Dean couldn’t hide the stunned looks on their faces. Y/N wasn’t any better, trying not to cry. Before she could stammer out some sort of explanation, Sam stepped forward and crouched down so he was at eye level with the young boy.

“Tobias,” Sam started, his voice soft and comforting, “my brother and I might be good enough hunters to be Huntsmen…but we’re not here to replace your father.  _No one_  will ever replace him. No one can. He’s your dad.” Sam smiled sympathetically at the child.

His smiled turned into a shocked expression when Tobias threw his arms around Sam. His heart pounded at the close contact.

Y/N couldn’t do anything but stare in awe. No one had ever gone this far to interact with her son, let alone get on his level and comfort him. Tobias released Sam, but the emotions Sam felt inside couldn’t be explained or described.

But he let them wash over him like the gentle wave of affection they were.

“Oh that reminds me,” Y/N said, “a possible contract came in this morning. Think you can look into it?”

—

“Should be pretty easy,” Dean drawled as him and Sam drove away from the Y/L/N mansion towards their contract’s destination. “Werewolves are usually cut and dry. Find vics with their hearts missing, put a silver bullet in theirs, easy money.”

“Yeah but knowing our luck,” Sam mused in response, “something will go wrong.”

“Aww, you’re such a downer today, Sammy. Whatsa’ matter, worried you’re not MILF material?” Dean added a chuckle to the end of his statement.

“Shut up.”

“No I’m serious man,” Dean glanced at Sam as he drove on, not looking away from the road more than five seconds, “I’ve seen the way the two of you look at each other. You can’t seem to pull your hand away from hers when you shake it. And she tends to turn many shades of red when you don’t. Plus, you’re good with her kid. That’s step-father stuff right there. Think you could be his new daddy?”

Sam just rolled his eyes. “Give me a break Dean. I highly doubt she’s looking to replace her late husband. And besides, even if she wanted to, you really think she’d choose to settle down with one of her own Huntsmen?”

“Stranger things have happened…”

Sam just huffed an annoyed breath in reply as silence took over the car, the engine humming along the road.

But when they arrived at their destination three hours later-

“Holy shit.”

“I don’t believe it.”

Dean wasted no time throwing his Baby into park, cutting the engine, and hurrying out of the car right behind Sam to come face to face with their father.

“Dad?”

“Hey boys.”

—

Sam didn’t have the best relationship with his father, John Winchester. After the death of his and Dean’s mother Mary, John was determined to find the thing that killed her and bring their family, ravaged by supernatural violence, the justice they should have never needed. Sam believed that, once the fat lady sang, things would improve between him and his old man. But he was sorely mistaken.

The younger Winchester boys’ hunting journey had uncovered a lot that could’ve saved them a lot of time, and a lot of injuries. They quickly learned that John didn’t teach them much about hunting and, by extension, the hunting community that was so tight knit, they were essentially outcasts.

Like when Sam broke his hand trying to outrun a revenant, they learned from the very few hunting friends they’d made that being bait is asking for trouble, and a bunch of fresh yarrow flowers were the best way to attract them back to their graves. Or long before that, when Dean nearly broke his neck falling from a scaffold while hunting a vengeful spirit, the then-lone hunter realized putting them to rest where they’d originally died didn’t mean jack squat if there were no remains.

Sam secretly was hoping that his father really  _was_ dead because, while it would hurt to realize he’d never have a chance to express his apologies for his part in their seemingly-constant squabbles, he feared what he really wanted to say to him would just drive the wedge deeper.

But seeing John standing there as if he was just along for the ride sparked an angry fire in his chest.

“Where the hell have you been?” Sam started, making no effort to hide his anger. Dean knew there was no getting in between this fight now. He learned long ago not to get in the middle of Sam and John’s fights. “We stopped looking for you, as you wanted us to, and now, out of nowhere, you’re here? You couldn’t call us to tell us you were okay? What’s up with that?”

“Sam-” John began, but was promptly cut off.

“No! No you need to hear this. Do you like making your sons believe you were dead? Do you get enjoyment out of that? Do you have any idea how torn up Dean was? He  _refused_ to believe you were dead. Refused! Practically started a fist fight with me! Why are you here?”

“Sam, look I-”

“And now! Now we stumble upon an entire fucking hunting community that actually  _pays_  us for the work we do?! So all this time, you  _knew_ how much I hated the pool hustling and the credit card scamming. You  _knew_ we could’ve been put away in prison for almost getting caught. And bam, out of nowhere, there’s an establishment that not only pays us more money than any hunter will ever seen in their lives, but there’s many of them?! Were you trying to keep us in the dark for your own amusement, or was it because you didn’t care about getting us killed?”

Dean almost protested, but kept his mouth shut. Sam was breathing heavy by the time he was done yelling. By the look on John’s face, he wanted to be angry but knew he had no right to. Dean just continued looking everywhere except towards his father and brother.

“I did what I did because I believed it was the best choice at the time,” John finally replied, not bothering to hide his disdain for Sam’s tone. “When your mother died, I trusted the wrong people. People who wanted you and your brother taken from me because they felt hunting was child endangerment. So no, I didn’t tell you about other hunters. I didn’t explain the contractor industry. I didn’t give you all the details about how to hunt every single monster out in the world. Because A, I was still learning myself. A hunter only stop learning when they’re dead. And B, I believed the only way you two were going to really learn this stuff was by getting out there and finding out for yourselves. Did I make mistakes? Of course I did, I’m not infallible. I’m still human. So pardon me for being a fuck up. But don’t you  _dare_ stand there and accuse me of negligence! Because if I didn’t love you, didn’t care for you or Dean, didn’t want what was best for you, I would’ve just killed us all after your mother’s death.”

Sam’s eyes widened at his father’s response. Dean’s eyes were just as big.

“I love you boys more than I’ll ever love myself,” John continued, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, “but I will never apologize for how I raised you. I originally came out to see if you needed help. But…it’s clear you know what you’re doing.”

And without another word, John got into his truck and drove away.

Sam could’ve said a million things in response. He could’ve retaliated and told his father he was a failure as a parent, though it would’ve been out of anger, not of truth. He could’ve demanded any number of 'why’s’ going through his mind. And, perhaps the biggest one, how the hell did John know they were going to be at that contract?

Dean just continued to stay silent; probably the most nonverbal he’d been all afternoon.

None of it mattered as their dear old dad drove away, leaving Sam and Dean in his dust.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: FLOOFITY FLUFF, SEVERE ANGST, CHARACTER DEATH, BLOOD, STABBING, KIDNAPPING, MORE ANGST, MILD LANGUAGE
> 
> Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Y/N Y/L/N, Tobias Y/L/N, Huber (mentioned)

* * *

 

For the first time in a long time, Sam and Dean felt like things were looking up. With the legal trail of their years of credit card fraud long gone, the bank they’d started using recognized them every time they came in to make a deposit.

To Dean, it felt weird at first to be acknowledged by his actual name rather than a faux pseudonym tied to pretending to being FBI or some other federal branch of law enforcement or government. But gradually, he started to feel pride in being called “Mr. Winchester” that didn’t involve a scowl or hint of hatred. It was said with respect.

Sam, on the other hand, almost couldn’t handle all the reverence. It was like his life was finally perfect. No longer considered a criminal, he walked with a spring in his step, his heart a bit lighter with each day that passed. Given how much money his brother and him were bringing in, he found it wise to open a investment savings account. One that would build interest and grow with time and semi-frequent deposits.

Sam also loved the feeling of being acknowledged as “Mr. Winchester” when being address by, well, anyone. It was no longer a sign he was in trouble with the law again. Or a sign that someone he loved was dead. He didn’t fear being called by his real name anymore.

But not all was entirely perfect.

While Sam enjoyed doing his job more, enjoyed the perks and benefits of being the Y/L/N Family Huntsman, he couldn’t shake what Dean had said weeks before.

_“Whatsa’ matter, worried you’re not MILF material?”_

As much as he knew his brother was just trying to get his goat, the words did not leave Sam’s mind.

Probably because he  _was_ worried.

Not necessarily about the whole “MILF” thing. But the longer his thoughts lingered, the more he realized he was starting to fall for Y/N. She was more than just the serious businesswoman she portrayed to all her clients and liaisons. She was radiant, intelligent, and she was a wonderful nurturing mother, despite having to raise Tobias all by herself.

Sam’s internal monologues led him to wondering a few things as the weeks turned into months. One, could he be a father? Could he potentially be a good one? He knew from personal experience that a young boy needed his father just as much as he needed his mother. With his own mother’s death, he found himself trying to rely on his father to be what he needed. It was a shame that, in his eyes, John Winchester failed in many aspects in that category. Was he capable of doing better?

_All these questions will be pointless if Y/N doesn’t feel the same way,_  Sam’s glum thoughts wandered.

But beyond all that, Sam knew that even if Y/N didn’t have a fatherless child, she was still a business owner and, more than that, his boss. He’d never worked anywhere legitimate, so he didn’t have anything to compare it to. But wouldn’t it be extremely conflicting if he’d started a relationship with said boss?

_All I can think about is how messy it would be,_  Sam thought.  _Would we be able to keep business and pleasure separated? Or would they bleed into each other? What happens if we get into a fight? Could we keep it outside of the work place? Or would our personal drama affect the business? And what about Tobias? Did Eli and Y/N ever fight? How would the kid feel if a man he’s expecting to be his stepfather gets into a fight with his mother? GAH! I’m being irrational. We’re not an item. I need to get these thoughts out of my head!_

“Whatcha thinkin about over there, Sammy?” Dean’s words cut through Sam’s internal ramblings like a hot knife through butter as they drove back to the Y/L/N mansion at eleven at night.

“Nothing,” Sam yawned. “Just eager to get to bed.”

—

As long as Sam Winchester wasn’t in the room, Y/N’s heart beat with a normal rate and rhythm. But it never lasted long. Just  _thinking_ about him gave her all the signs of being in love. Or, at least, having an intense crush.

_What is wrong with me?_  Y/N chastised herself.  _I don’t have time for love. I’ve gotta business to run. For Christ’s sake, Tobias needs me to be on top of my game! Besides, he doesn’t need drama associated with me dating. Poor kid sometimes still wonders if his dad will come home…_

But the longer she thought about it, the more she pondered on how to make it work.

In retrospect, it was her business and she made the rules, despite the business being an inheritance of sorts. Surely when her grandfather ran the business, he didn’t thumb his nose at colleagues dating or even marrying. She had a few hunters within her liaison that worked in pairs because they were together. It wouldn’t be so different for her and Sam to be an item, would it?

_Ugh, I sound like I’m in high school again,_ Y/N groan internally.  _Lovey dovey thoughts notwithstanding, I don’t even know if Sam would go for a chick like me. At our age, it’s not cool to date someone who’s got kids, or even widowed. It’s just extra baggage. Then again, how many people in their early to mid twenties get married just to end up widowed a few years later? I wish I knew, but then again if I did, it would only make me feel more depressed._

“Mama?”

Y/N shook her head as Tobias walked into her office. She put on her sweetest smile and pushed her internal monologue into the abyss. “Yes baby?”

“I need help brushing my teeth.”

Y/N blinked and looked at the giant antique grandfather clock to the left side of the door, directly in front of her.

It read 11:23 PM.

“Oh my!” Y/N shot up from her aging traditional office chair. “I worked so much I let time get away from me. Did Huber helped you into your ‘jammies?”

“Yes, Mama. He’s already gone to bed.”

“I expected as much. C'mon, sweets. Let’s go get ready for bed.”

Tobias grabbed her hand and they made their way towards his bathroom.

—

Sam and Dean didn’t get back to the house til almost one in the morning, their bodies sore and aching and consciousness waning. Sam was dying for a solid eight hours of restful sleep. Dean was looking forward to more or less the same thing.

But upon seeing the house, their hearts dropped. The men armed themselves.

The front door was kicked in and the front glass was shattered around the steps of the front porch. When the Winchesters entered the home with military precision, one of them always watching the other’s back, they could see furniture scattered around like tossed toys, light fixtures and expensive paintings either askew or broken on the floor.

And there was blood. Lots of it, too. And most of it were in dragging patterns.

Dean silently swished his hand towards the front parlor and main dining area, instructing Sam to search in those areas, while Dean made his way towards the back of the first floor, his heart pounding hard.

The back of the house now clear of any threat, he made his way towards the grand staircase, covered in a lush drape of fine rugs.

“Dean!”

Sam’s urgent voice stopped him as he turned around. He followed the sound of Sam’s booming, panicky voice.

When he arrived in the kitchen, Sam was on his knees. And the brutally murdered corpse of Huber laid beside him.

_The poor man was ambushed from behind,_  Dean thought. His throat was slashed ear to ear, and he had multiple stab wounds across his masterfully tailored suit. A smashed tea set was scattered around him, tea spilled all around. Meaning he was probably about to make Y/N’s night time tea.  _She always drinks tea with some special ingredients to help her sleep,_  Dean continued to think.

“How long?” Dean’s voice was somber and sad.

“A few hours, maybe.” Sam felt the older man’s right cheek with one hand as he used the other to close his wide, dead eyes. “He’s still kinda warm.”

“God damnit,” Dean exhaled, mostly to himself.

A thought made Sam’s heart skip a beat.

“Y/N. And Tobias!”

Both men raced upstairs, not bothering to conceal their footsteps. If anyone was still here, the boys were fired up enough to confront them head on. And they both had a fresh magazine in their pistols to eliminate whatever threat dared to invade their home.

Halfway down the hall between Y/N and Tobias’ rooms lay an unconscious Y/N, a bleeding wound at her hairline.

“Y/N?” Sam reached her first, gingerly taking her upper body into his arms.

Dean scrambled around him to search for Tobias. Sam checked Y/N’s pulse, relief rushing his insides as a steady beat met his fingertips.

“C'mon, sweetie, wake up,” Sam said softly, patting her cheek and shaking her as gently as he could.  _She could have a concussion,_ Sam thought as anger bubbled and rose like bitter bile from his gut. He continued holding onto her as Dean came back, and the scared look on his face told Sam everything he needed to know.

“Toby’s gone.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGSTY AF, SOME FLUFF, MENTIONS OF DEATH, MENTIONS OF MURDER, CRIME SCENE STUFF, MORE KIDNAPPING
> 
> Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Y/N Y/L/N, Tobias Y/L/N, Huber Harrison, Multiple OMCs, Unnamed villain!OC (mentioned),

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for Y/N to come to. And when she looked up, and very worried Sam and Dean (with Sam unknowingly holding onto her for dear life) breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief.

They helped her get into a sitting position and, when the vertigo stopped treating her world like a giant roller coaster, helped her stand. They walked her into the room that was turned into an impromptu doctor’s office for their physicals. Sam helped her sit down on the bench that not too long ago seated him for his physical. Dean started rummaging around in the drawers to find something to treat Y/N’s head wound.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked, though immediately felt stupid.  _She was just attacked, what is she supposed to say “I’m fine Sam how are you?” Stupid._

“Dizzy…nauseous…but I guess that’s to be expected when you’re bashed over the head with your own grandfather clock.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a concerned look. Sam took the ice pack Dean made and held it to Y/N’s head gingerly while Dean put together supplies to bandage the wound.

“Tell us exactly what happened,” Sam began smoothly, “as much as you can remember. No detail is too small or insignificant.”

Taking a breath, Y/N attempted to recollect her thoughts. It was difficult, as the throbbing of her head wound matched the heartbeat in her ears. She closed her eyes before speaking.

“I had just put Tobias to bed…”

—

_“Goodnight, sweet boy. Momma love you.” Y/N said quietly as Tobias got comfortable in his bed with his favorite book, a nightlight mounted on the headboard switched on for just the occasion._

_Y/N made her way downstairs to see no one was there, so she started making her night time tea. She filled a kettle with some water from the sink and set the fire on the stove to high._

_“If you did that every night, I’d be out of the job, ma'am.”_

_Y/N turned around to see Huber standing in the entryway to the kitchen, already dressed and ready to retire for the night._

_“Oh Huber,” Y/N chuckled. “Even if I_ did  _find a need to take your job, I wouldn’t do it. You’re family, and this home is just as much yours as it is mine and Toby’s. Surely you know that.”_

_“I do, ma'am,” Huber smiled, walking towards her to finish making her tea for her. “But something tells me you’re not really here to make yourself tea. Tell me what’s on your mind, love.”_

_Y/N sighed as the tea kettle whistled to signal it was ready for brewing. Huber took it off the stove and reached into a nearby overhead cabinet and pulled out a small tin container filled with a unique blend of herbs and spices along with hand-crushed chamomile tea leaves. He poured an undisclosed amount into the kettle and closed the lid._

_“You need to stop thinking about that boy,” Huber said._

_“And you need to get out of my head,” Y/N quipped back, but neither of their words held any spite. It was an ongoing game they played. Something that stretched back to Y/N’s childhood._

_“I would but your thoughts are too loud not to observe. Sometimes I can’t help myself.”_

_Y/N took a deep breath. “I know…love is probably the last thing I should be thinking about.”_

_“Darling, there’s never a time when love is an inconvenience. It’s always going to be there. You just gotta figure out if it’s a good time for you.”_

_Huber turned around and studied Y/N’s eyes, which were wandering around the kitchen._

_“You like him.”_

_Y/N knew it was bad luck to lie to a psychic. Especially one that had been in her life since she was born. She sighed._

_“Huber, I think I’m falling for him. And not just some high school girl crush. I mean…I’m seeing him as if he could be Toby’s stepfather…is…is that wrong? Am…am I dishonoring Eli’s memory?”_

_Huber took Y/N’s hands into his. “Of course not. Life is for the alive, my dear. If you’re not able to move on, what kind of life is that?”_

_Y/N seemed doubtful by the expression on her face. So Huber did something he hadn’t done in a long time. Just to ensure the message was loud and clear._

_Y/N heard Huber’s voice in her head as he closed his eyes._

“Everyone is entitled to their own sorrow, for the heart as no metrics or form of measure. And all of it… irreplaceable.”

_Y/N looked up at Huber, who just winked at her. She hugged him tight, knowing that he was right._

_Eli wouldn’t want her to be caught up in being a single parent just to honor him, especially if she was ready to move on. He would’ve respected her time of grief, no matter how long or short it was. He always told her he wanted her to be happy, no matter what that entailed._

_“I believe your tea is ready, m'lady.”_

_Y/N smiled. “If you don’t mind, can you bring a cup to my room a bit later? Wanna give it time to cool. I’m gonna go catch up on-”_

_“That novel you’ve been secretly reading at night?”_

_Y/N gasp slightly. “Huber!”_

_“I may or may not have heard you repeating certain…saucy phrases in your sleep…”_

_The two of them shared a giggle before Huber released her._

_“Thank you Huber. Know that you will always be family, no matter what happens in my life.”_

_“And your grandfather is smiling upon you for all the good you’ve done with his company, my dear.”_

_A quick smile and Y/N made her way excitedly towards her room to indeed catch up on her novel._

_—_

_An hour later, her tea cup long since drained, Y/N was startled away from her dozing off to the sounds of glass breaking. At first, she thought it was a dream; her book_ was  _talking about the protagonist walking through a street filled with shattered glass looking for their lover. But the sounds of a struggle soon followed the breaking. She cowered in fear in her bed, knowing she was not equipped to deal with an intruder. Then she thought about Tobias._

_“Toby!”_

_Sneaking out of her room to grab her son would prove to be a mistake._

_As she quietly made her way down there, she saw Toby’s door ajar. When she saw he was not in bed, she feared the worst._

_“Tobias?” She called out._

_Then, everything went black as she was struck in the head by a large object. The last thing she saw was a man holding Tobias, bound and gagged with duct tape, jumping out of his window and down into the gardens below._

—

“I had assumed Huber was-” she gasped aloud, “Huber! Where is he? Is he alright?” She didn’t remember seeing Huber during the altercation. And surely he would’ve been involved in trying to stop the kidnapper, right?

Sam and Dean’s expressions changed from one of concentration to grief. Y/N knew the look. It was the same look Huber gave her when he told her Eli was dead. She stiffed a mournful cry.

“My God…” the tears pooling at the corner of her eyes couldn’t be contained. Sam reached for a square of sterile gauze and dabbed at her cheeks lightly. “I didn’t know that…that was the last time I’d ever see him…alive…oh God…”

“We’re so sorry,” Dean muttered. “By the time we got back to the house…it was too late.”

Instinctively, Y/N leaned towards Sam’s body. He didn’t waste the chance to embrace her from the side, her arms wrapping around his waist. He set the ice pack down and wrapped an arm around her in return. Sam’s cheek leaned slightly into the top of Y/N’s head, the smell of her lavender shampoo assaulting his nostrils like a basket of fresh clean laundry on a warm spring afternoon. He wanted nothing more than to grab her face and kiss her.

_Be cool,_ Sam chided himself internally.  _She’s been through enough without your libido issues getting in the way!_

Dean looked on, but stayed silent.

“And…whoever he was-”

“‘He’?” Dean inquired. “It was a man?”

Y/N nodded. “But I didn’t recognize him. I don’t know who he is or why…” she let her sentence trail, not daring to say aloud that the intruder took her only child. “What does he want with us?” She looked between Sam and Dean, neither of which had any answers.

“Hey,” Sam got Y/N’s attention. “We’re gonna figure this out. We’re gonna find Tobias. And we’re gonna bring him home. You have my word on that.”

The corner’s of Y/N’s mouth pulled upwards to resemble a tight smile, but it didn’t come anywhere near her eyes.

Dean bandaged up Y/N’s head to the best of his ability and together, the three of them walked her towards her bedroom. Given tonight’s events, Y/N doubt she would be sleeping, but appreciated the gesture all the same.

Closing the door behind them, Sam and Dean made a mad dash for their rooms and got to work.

Whoever, or whatever, took Tobias needed to be stopped. And they were the only ones who could do it.

—

Nobody slept that night.

Given there was a dead body in the kitchen, the police had to be called and a full investigation got underway. Sam and Dean spoke on Y/N’s behalf since she was too distraught. When the police tried to strong-arm their way around the matter, they identified themselves as the Y/L/N Family Huntsmen.

“Oh, my apologies, sirs,” one of the cops said, tipping his hat in their direction. “I was unaware the Y/L/N Family hired new ones. Please, forgive me.”

“He didn’t mean to overstep your authorities, gentlemen,” another cop, who looked like the first one’s boss, spoke up from behind him. “No one on my force would ever do that to Family Huntsmen. I assume you’ll be leading the investigation? Seeing at this happened in your home.”

Sam and Dean blinked, but didn’t let on that they were too new at the job to know what the hell they were talking about.

“Yes,” Dean said matter-of-factly. “As you can imagine, Mrs. Y/L/N is heavily traumatized by this, especially since she was attacked herself. No need to worry though, we’ve already got the family doctor on his way here to look her over. Our primary focus is finding Tobias, Mrs. Y/L/N’s 6 year old son.”

“And of course,” Sam piped up, “funeral preparations for Huber.”

“Ah yes,” boss-cop said sadly. “Huber Harrison was a fine, upstanding man. His loss is not without sadness. Does Mrs. Y/L/N know?”

“Yes,” Sam said.

“At your command, we’ll dispatch forensics and the medical examiner to retrieve his body. If you wish for an autopsy to be performed, you’ll need to sign some paperwork authorizing consent.”

“That’ll do, thank you,” Dean said quickly. In his mind, the sooner they got the cops out of here, the better.

They had work of their own to do. As far as Dean was concerned, this was a case. And it was personal.

 

The police spent several hours after speaking with the Winchesters collecting evidence and removing Huber’s body from the house. Y/N laid awake, unable to make her mind go quiet enough to at least zonk out for an hour.

She thought about just getting up, but she knew the police were still downstairs. She couldn’t bear to look at the carnage that had befallen her home. And, of course, she couldn’t bear witness to Huber’s corpse being handled. So she remained in bed, thinking.

Huber’s death shook her to her core. What was she going to do without him? He’d been there her entire life; at least once a day for as long as she could remember, Huber had been present. He taught her how to read and showed her her love for lore. His shoulder was her sponge after her grandfather’s passing. He was the one who called the family doctors when she went into labor with Tobias. He presided over hers and Eli’s wedding. He was the one who gave her the devastating news that she was a widow. And he was the one who told her about the Winchesters in the first place.

And here she was, laying in bed and hiding like a coward while the monster who’d taken her only child was out there doing God knows what with him.

_No._  She rose from bed and started getting dressed.  _I will_ not  _be a victim of this._

Meanwhile, Sam shut yet another book harshly, an exhausted sigh leaving his lips.

“Dude, we got nothing. Whoever this guy was knew about the cameras all over the place, therefore he’s not seen in any of them.”

“Which means it's someone known to the Y/L/N’s,” Dean replied, folding Sam’s laptop screen down. “We need to go back downstairs and comb the place for clues. The asshole had to’ve left  _something_  behind for us to use as a lead.”

“You’re assuming the cops didn’t mess up any potential evidence.”

“Won’t know until we try.”

Sam shrugged, and followed his big brother towards the door. Upon opening it, they ran into Y/N, who looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Whoa,” Dean said, “where’s the fire, hon?”

“Someone took my son, and I intend to bring him home.”

Sam and Dean exchanged concerned looks.

“Let us handle that,” Sam said. “We were about to go downstairs to see if the intruder left any clues.”

“No, I can’t wait for that. I  _need_ to go find him. Now.”

“Y/N, we don’t even know if who took Tobias is human. Given our line of work, it could be anyone. Or anything.” Dean sighed as this only seemed to irritate Y/N further. “Look, you hired us to be your family huntsmen. We’re treating this like a case, only more personal. Please, Y/N. Let us do our jobs.”

Y/N wanted to get angry; throw them out for defying her as their boss and demand she handle this on her own. But she wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t a hunter. She just employed them. Reading books and knowing lore wasn’t anything compared to actually fighting the supernatural. Plus, Dean was right. This home was theirs too, and someone had the audacity to break in and take what didn't belong to them. It  _was_ personal. And she did trust them; otherwise, what was the point of hiring them as the Y/L/N Family Huntsmen in the first place? If she couldn’t trust them with this, who’s to say she should be trusting them with regular hunts?

Y/N sighed in finality. “Okay.” She lifted her eyes to look at them both, her following words fueled with conviction. “Find my son. And end the bastard who took him.”

Sam came forward and wrapped his arms around her, and Y/N lost herself in his warmth. He smelled of sweet vanilla and sandalwood, like taking a walk through the woods after an afternoon spring shower. She wondered for a moment what cologne he was using because he also smelled of freshly crushed coffee beans. It was intoxicating to the point where she wondered why in the world Sam was single.

Sam pretty much had the same thoughts; she smelled of that lavender shampoo again, her hair falling all around him. Her heart pounded against his own, albeit a little faster. Once again, he wanted nothing more than to cup the sides of her head in his hands and kiss her deeply. But that would have to wait. He forced her to look him in the eyes, all pretense of lighthearted conversations gone.

“We will find him. Once more, you have my word.”

—

Later that night, Sam and Dean checked on Y/N one last time before turning in for the night. They got no where with finding leads around the house. Not for a lack of trying, and not because the police messed up any potential supernatural clues.

Their perp was one bad son of a bitch.

Dean had to acknowledge at least one thing: whoever took Toby not only was an expert tracker, but was also expertly good at  _covering_ said tracks. Which would make finding them harder.

Sam agreed with Dean on that note, but it only confirmed his own theory that Toby, and potentially Y/N and the late Eli, knew the kidnapper. He made a mental note to ask her if she knew of anyone who would want to harm her family in the morning.  _By now, she’s probably finally get some sleep._

But Y/N was not asleep.

She was angry.

While she had agreed to stay behind and let Sam and Dean do their jobs, she hadn’t intended to keep her word.

A conversation that seemed so long ago played through her mind.

_“You’re such a stubborn wench,” Eli chastised, but his words had no bite._

_Y/N threw a pillow at him. “You love it.”_

_“I do.”_

Her conviction to bring her son home was reignited, and she quietly got dressed and slipped out her bedroom window. She dashed across the lawn and made it to the other side of the property without anyone hearing or seeing her. Small victories.

But it would be short lived as a hand with a wet rag in it reached out from the bushes and covered Y/N’s mouth, rendering her unconscious.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SEVER ANGST, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, WHUMP, KIDNAPPING, CHLOROFORM USAGE, VAMPIRE KIDNAPPING, CHILDREN BEING HURT, BLOOD, BEHEADING, LOTS OF SHIT, BE CAREFUL
> 
> Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Y/N Y/L/N, Tobias Y/L/N, Huber Harrison (mentioned), Unnamed OCs, Colin Bashharp (OMC)

* * *

 

A strong stench of rotting flesh, old blood and ammonia awoke Y/N from her unconscious state. She found herself strung up by her wrist with rusting, wrought-iron chains, her bare feet scraping the dirty wet flooring beneath her. Her clothes were tattered and stained with God knows what, and she felt very sore.

_Where the hell am I?_ She thought.  _Where’s Tobias?!_

“Oh good…” a deep male voice resonated. “You’re finally awake. I was wondering if I was gonna have to wake you up with…alternative methods…”

_Wait a minute…I know that voice…_

_Shit._

—

While Dean managed to get a few hours of actual, restful unconsciousness, Sam’s occasional bought of insomnia plagued him this night.

His thoughts kept wandering back to Y/N, and how she was coping with all that happened. He could barely look her in the eye when she learned about Huber’s death; he blamed himself.

_If we hadn’t gone on that damn hunt…I could’ve stopped it. Tobias would still be here. Huber would still be alive._

He knew his mental barrages wouldn’t get him anywhere, but he couldn’t help it. Sam knew one thing was certain: when he gave his word, he meant it and backed it up with action. His promise to Y/N would be fulfilled. Then, they could start healing from this horrific nightmare.

At around five in the morning, Sam decided he’d had enough of staring at the ceiling. He threw the covers off his shirtless form and swung his pajama-covered legs over the edge of the bed.

Stretching his arms high above his head, he yawned widely before padding over towards the bathroom. The mirror revealed his bed head and the bags under his eyes.  _I really needed to get a decent night’s sleep sometime this year,_ he mused to himself.

He threw on a T-shirt and walked down towards Y/N’s room at the end of the hall. He knocked lightly.

“Y/N?” He said, but got no answer. “Y/N, are you awake?” His louder tone should have roused her, but still no sound emanated from her room. Sam decided to open the door out of curiosity.

And the reason for not hearing her became clear.

Y/N was gone. Sam’s heart dropped to his knees.

He raced down the opposite end of the hall, past Tobias’ room, and burst through Dean’s room.

“Dean! Dean, wake up!” Sam started violently shaking his brother awake, something the older Winchester did not approve of.

“Sammy?” Dean grumbled, rubbing his eyes while trying to shake off Sam’s grip. “What the hell-”

“Dean, we gotta go. Y/N’s gone.”

—

“Colin?”

Y/N’s voice was trembling. Colin Bashharp was a former liaison for her business and a regular hunting partner of Eli’s before his death. She ended up terminating his contract with her after a few incidents almost got innocent civilians killed. At Eli’s personal request.

“I can tell by your voice that you’re surprised to see me.” Colin remained as cool as ever. “And I can tell by the sound of your heart racing that you’re fucking terrified.”

Y/N blinked. “Wait…wha-”

“I can hear your heartbeat, Y/N. And I can hear Tobias’ little heartbeat slowing down in the corner over there.”

Y/N’s heart jumped into her throat. She craned her aching neck around the room and her eyes fell upon her son, tied up in the same manner as her.

“Momma,” a very weak voice came from Tobias, his eyes peeking open. Y/N now had tears slowly slipping down her cheeks.

“If you hurt my son, Colin, I swear to God-”

“You’ll what? Kill me? Ha! See, Eli tried that…”

She froze at the mention of her late husband. Colin came into Y/N’s field of vision suddenly. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he hadn’t showered in a year; he smelled like it too, which could’ve explained the smell of rotting meat and old blood. But it wasn’t until he bore his teeth to her, a second, sharper set of razor pointed teeth descending in front of his regular ones.

“Look where it got him.”

Y/N gulped. “Colin…what…what did you  _do?_ ”

“What was necessary.”

—

The Winchesters searched the house high and low, but no trace of Y/N could be found anywhere. And they were panicking, while inadvertently thankful no one around to witness it.

“She went after it,” Sam huffed, slightly winded. “Whoever or whatever took Tobias. She went after them. I just know it.”

“Sam, we don’t know jack squat, just calm down,” Dean attempted to reason.

“Oh really?” Sam’s anger was evident in his voice. “We tell her last night not to do anything rash, and now, less than twelve hours later, she’s gone without a trace?! Coincidences don’t happen around us, you know that!”

“Sam! I know you’re upset, but you gotta stop thinking with your heart and start thinking with your head.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It’s ridiculously obvious you’re in love with Y/N. I get that, and I’m not shaming you for it, believe me. But I need you to be rational about this. It’s the only way we’re gonna bring them home.”

Sam started taking slower, deeper breaths to tame his temper. He willed his panicky heart to slow its harshly fast beat; one last deep breath brought his focus back to finding Y/N.

“Alright…” Sam said after a few moments. “We treat this like any other contract.” He looked around the house, and a thought struck him. 

Without saying anything to Dean, he made his way back up the stairs and into Y/N’s bedroom. He looked around at the scene. Other than a nightgown on the floor, there wasn’t much out of place. Her shoes were missing and an outfit that previously hung in the closet were represented by empty hangers. Then he turned around and saw the window.

“Looks like she went out the bedroom window,” Sam said to Dean, who had just arrived. They walked over towards it and peered down into the courtyard below. There were sturdy vines and a tall tree whose branches reached the window with relative ease. “Anyone who knows how to safely climb trees could leave the house through this window. Look.” Sam pointed to less-than-obvious footprints embedded in the tree branch closest to the window. They were small prints, so they had to be Y/N’s.

Sam didn’t say another word to Dean as he left the bedroom and made his way towards the courtyard, around where Y/N would have landed to leave the house.

The grass around the tree was roughed up, patches of deep footprints disturbing the normally-pristine lawn.

And there was a trail of them.  _What luck!_ Sam thought.

Dean had now joined the search outside, and the two of them followed the trail that Sam silently pointed out. They led to a thick stand of professionally-trimmed bushes. Sam started fighting his way through them.

The smell of some strong chemical assaulted his nose, and he immediately covered his face. Dean did the same thing, and the older brother noticed something caught in one of the bushes. Covering his hand with his jacket sleeve, he retrieved a white rag that was slightly damp. He couldn’t tell if it was because of the morning dew or from something else.

Sam sniffed it cautiously, and revolted at the scent at once.

“Chloroform.” Sam cursed the world internally.

“Whoever did this, they’ve clearly left behind evidence we can track.”

“Not only that. They clearly know the Y/L/N’s.”

Sam took off his jacket to handle the chemically affected cloth, and the brothers headed back towards the house.

“Wait, how will we track them?” Sam asked. “We don’t exactly have the equipment to find whoever did this!”

“No, but we know people who do. Perks of the job, Sammy.” Dean smiled as he pulled out his cell phone. He dialed some numbers and brought the phone to his ear. Sam went to go find a plastic zip bag and some gloves while Dean waited for his contact to answer on the other end.

“Detective? It’s Dean Winchester, Y/L/N Family Huntsman. Can my brother and I ask you a huge favor?”

—

“You…you didn’t…you wouldn’t…”

Y/N was reeling. Colin just confessed that he killed her husband.

“But wait,” she went on, her throat suddenly in need of water. “That can’t be right. Eli’s last hunt was a solo act. He was hunting-”

“A nest of vamps,” Colin finished. “ _My_  nest, you dumb whore.”

Y/N grimaced as he went on, spiteful venom coating his every word. “It’s probably why Eli insisted I be dropped from your liaison. He  _knew_ something was up. He knew I had strayed from the ever so ‘noble’ hunting path. But he didn’t realize what it was until he got to my nest, where my  _family_ was, and encountered me.

"I didn’t want to kill him. Eli was one of my best friends. You and Tobias were like family to me. So I made him a counteroffer. One that would ensure everyone’s survival. Eli was to bring me you and your son, and in exchange for your lives, I’d turn all of you. You would become part of my nest. Nobody had to die, everyone would be happy. We lived peaceful lives, my nest. We didn’t bother anyone, and we only fed on those whom we knew nobody would miss. Homeless people, runaways, even the occasional wandering stray dog. It’s disgusting, but it kept us out of sight from the hunting community, especially the ones in the contractor industry.

"But in the end, Eli refused. He said he wouldn’t turn his family into the, how did he put it? 'The monsters you had become’. I admit, I snapped. And then I snapped his neck. But not before I drained him of every once of blood his body had.”

Y/N was now crying audibly. Eli didn’t die on a hunt.  _He was murdered._

“If Eli had done what he was told…I wouldn’t have to do this. But he’s left me no choice.”

Y/N started struggling against her bonds as Colin made his way towards her, monstrous claws and vampire teeth now completely expose.

And poor Tobias could only stand by and watch as his mother was turned into the very thing his father has refused to become.

—

“You gotta be kidding me!” The detective that Dean called was reading the test results from the chloroform rag Sam found.

It had been three days since Y/N initially vanished and they had been no closer to finding her than they were that day. Sam was growing increasingly irritated. And he hadn’t slept since either, making his mood all the more sour. But that didn’t stop him from joining Dean at the police station when Dean got the call about the test results.

“What is it?” Sam snapped, not bothering to hide his mood.

“The DNA results point to someone who was reported missing over two years ago,” the detective handed Sam the paper. “Colin Bashharp.”

“Who is he?”

“Officially, he’s a former liaison contract hunter for the Wheatley Contractors Association LLC. But he was released from his contract for misconduct. He was reported missing shortly after that.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other. They knew from experience that whoever Colin was had a grudge against the Y/N and her family.

“Anything else you can tell us, detective?”

“Not really, but if this really is him, you’re gonna need backup in tracking him down. We can send out K-9 unit to assist if you need them.”

Sam managed a weak smile. “That would be very helpful, thank you.”

Sam and Dean left the station after establishing a plan to go rescue Y/N. Sam hoped with all his heart they’d find her, and Tobias, alive.

—

After a day or two of planning and organizing, The Winchesters led the hunt with the K-9 units directly behind them. Once they got inside the abandoned shack that clearly used to be a nice three-bedroom home, they immediately knew what they were dealing with, given the amount of blood, both drying on the floor and fresh, bagged and refrigerated, all over the place.

“Vampires,” Dean said to Sam. Then he turned around to face the K-9 units. He silently signaled them to leave for their own safety, and the boys retrieved the machetes hanging from the sheaths attached to their belts. They didn’t know what they were going to go up against, so they had their pistols in their hands and a magazine with every kind of monster killing bullet in their arsenal, their machetes in case it was vamps, holy water for demons, and so on and so forth. They were as prepared as they could be, and they weren’t taking any chances. Not when Y/N and Tobias’ lives were on the line.

Tucking his pistol away against the small of his back inside his pants, Sam readied his long vampire killing blade and remained vigilant.

He heard quiet whimpers in the stillness of the night. Sam turned to his left and saw a child-sized shoe from the shadows. He raced over to find Tobias tied up.

“Toby, hey, hey it’s Sam, you with me?” Sam got Tobias’ attention and checked him for injuries. Tobias shook his head and lifted a very weak arm to point directly behind Sam.

The sight before the young hunter nearly caused his heart to stop. Dean came up from behind him and pushed him towards Y/N, and then turned his attention to freeing Tobias.

Y/N was pale, dirty, and clinging to life as much as the chains tying her up were clinging to their anchor high above her head. Sam sheathed the blade and ran towards her. He took her face into his hands, cupping her cheeks gently.

“Y/N? Oh god,” Sam’s breathing was erratic as he checked her for a pulse. A slow, fluttering blimp of life met his fingers.  _She’s alive!_  “Hey, hey! Y/N, sweetheart wake up! Wake up!”

His voice caught something’s attention. He nearly avoided being jumped from behind. A tussling ensued as Sam tried to unsheathe his machete from his belt. Colin, now a fully transformed vampire, was trying to bite Sam’s neck. They rolled around on the floor, causing Sam to hit his head hard a few times in the struggle. He kneed Colin in the shin hard to get him off, but it was like kicking a brick wall with a bare foot. Pain exploded throughout Sam’s leg and he was quickly losing the upper hand.

Colin’s vampire teeth were hair’s breath away from the soft supple skin of Sam’s neck, the monster’s breathing rapid with blood-lust.

“If I can’t have her,” Colin snarled, “nobody can!”

“I beg to differ.”

Colin’s head whipped around just in time for him to lose it. Dean swung his machete at Colin’s neck with no hesitation, the clean cut slicing through bone, muscle and flesh. Colin’s head landed with a loud  _plop!_ on the ground. Dean made sure his hand was covering Tobias’ eyes as he killed him.

Sam got up, trying to catch his breath. He fished out his trusty lockpick kit from his inside jacket pocket and started undoing the chains around Y/N’s wrists.

Y/N fell into Sam’s arms with all her weight; she had no energy or consciousness to stand on her own. Bridal style, Sam brought her into his arms, close to his chest. He could see the bite marks on her neck; fortunately they were the bite marks he would want to see on a vampire’s victim.

“He just bled her…he didn’t turn her. But she’s hurt pretty bad, Dean.” Sam looked between his brother and Tobias.

“Is Momma gonna be okay?” Tobias asked, the sight of his mother hurt bringing tears to his eyes.

“Yes,” Sam said softly as they all left the abandoned house. “She’s going to be just fine.”

Sam hoped Tobias believed him. Because he wasn’t certain he believed himself.


End file.
